


Bez Tebe

by TexasDreamer01



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Gen, Kul Elna, Pre-Canon, kid!tkb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-05
Updated: 2016-10-05
Packaged: 2018-08-19 16:09:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8216153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TexasDreamer01/pseuds/TexasDreamer01
Summary: The lash of tragedy leaves creates a diversity of survivors.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Reblog [here](http://texasdreamer01.tumblr.com/post/95173217135/bez-tebe).

He squinted, cursing the bright sun drenching the edges of his overhang. The dried reeds fractured the rays - it reminded him that he needed to swap them out for a fresh matting soon. _Ah, I should tell my wife, she’s been getting itchy hands from having to sit around so much._

The thought made him smile fondly. This was, Hathor willing, their second child, due within days if the local priest was indeed right.

Idly, he gestured protectively over himself, muttering a short prayer. It had been a few years, yes, but the pain of discovering that his beloved home village had been mauled and utterly ransacked while he was away buying more wares still made his heart clench in sorrow. Not even anyone left to mourn them!

Had his home not felt like it was haunted by some terrible demon, he would have checked to see if there were any kinsmen to bury and at least leave a hastily-scratched prayer on a shard of pottery. As it was, he bolted, running as far as his grief would fuel him.

 _Forgive me,_ He begged, to whomever would listen, for the upteenth time, _Lead them home._

Preoccupied as he was, the merchant missed the sight of a small hand sneaking off an onion from the front of the neatly-stacked pile. It only alerted him when the rest started to roll off the papyrus mat from the admittedly unskilled grab. He gasped, launching across to grasp at as many as could be caught without leaving the rest of his food unattended.

It left him sprawled over the onions, clutching at a pair just skirting the edges of the mat. A mean, childlike laugh distracted him. He scrambled back to his threadbare cushion, indignant. It didn’t take long to find the source - a dirty mop of hair so light it looked bleached of colour.

“Hey! Give those back!”

The child hummed, taking a mocking bite out of one onion, other perched in the roll of his hand on a hip. He reared back at the unsettlingly familiar gaze, _The smirk of Kul Elna,_ the man thought numbly, _Everyone always thought us prideful._ It was a look scarcely to be mistaken; even his wife complained from time to time of it being harboured on his own features when he was winning at a game of knucklebones.

“… How about no.”

By the time he had gathered his thoughts, the strange child was gone. It would not be until many years later, staring in fear at the giant demon ready to crush him and his family amongst the burning wreckage of their home, that he realized not everyone had died.


End file.
